


Jim Kirk Gets Some Tail

by often_adamanta



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-03
Updated: 2010-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-22 08:38:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/236186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/often_adamanta/pseuds/often_adamanta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Beta'd by <span class="ljuser ljuser-name_dianadisaster"><a href="http://dianadisaster.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://dianadisaster.livejournal.com/"><b>dianadisaster</b></a></span>.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Jim Kirk Gets Some Tail

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by [](http://dianadisaster.livejournal.com/profile)[**dianadisaster**](http://dianadisaster.livejournal.com/).

Bones is laughing at him, the bastard.

"Shut up," Kirk demands. "Shut up, shut up."

There's a honest to god snort, and then Bones is sinking into the chair next to the biobed.

"You are such an asshole," Kirk pouts. "Seriously, keep laughing. It's not like I know where you keep your stash or anything."

Bones waves this off. His face is red, and he's wiping tears from the corner of his eyes. "I swear, Jim. Only you. A tail!"

He can't really blame Bones. It's ridiculous, and if it hadn't been happening to him, he’d probably be laughing, too, especially since it keeps twitching like it has a mind of its own. It's about a meter long, thin and flexible, and covered in light fur that starts out pale blond at the tip and darkens as it nears his body. "Great. Now that we've had this laugh, fix it already."

"Fix it?" Bones is trying for serious, but his lips are twitching. "I hardly think I'm qualified, Jim. I'm a doctor, not a veterinarian."

"Hardy-har-har," Jim says, "You aren't a comedian, that's for damn sure. Now, c'mon, get rid of this thing."

"Get _rid_ of... Good god, man! I can't just make it disappear. Look here," he orders and pulls up one of the displays, "It's fully integrated into your nervous system."

"Bones, I don't care. I just want it gone."

Bones is scowling now, all traces of humor gone. "Jim, you aren't listening to me. I can't just remove it."

"Sure you can. It's called surgery."

Bones leans over suddenly, grabs hold of the tail and yanks, hard.

Kirk yowls, a high, sharp scream of pain, and flails around, but Bones has already released him and moved out of reach.

"It's attached to your _goddamn spine_ ," he snaps as Kirk cradles his tail gently, waiting for the dull waves of pain to subside. "It's a part of you now. I can't just go hacking it off without doing you damage. The only way is to get the device and -"

"Absolutely not," Kirk interrupts vehemently. They'd barely made it off that planet with the away team alive. "So, fine. I have a tail. Life goes on. I see no reason to tell anyone about this. Or inform Starfleet for that matter. Doctor-patient confidentiality, yeah? I mean," he continues when Bones looks skeptical, "you know that the Admiralty has been breathing down my neck. I don't want to give them any reason to be concerned."

"Fine," Bones agrees with a sigh. "On two conditions. One, you take the next 24 hours off duty and let me scan you ever couple of hours. I want to make sure you're not growing a lovely set of ears to match."

Kirk makes a face. "Okay, what else?"

"Well," Bones drawls, "I'm going to need to take a few pictures. You know, for that confidential medical file of yours." His glee is obvious.

"Bastard," Kirk accuses, but doesn't argue. He knows he's getting off fairly easy.

Except for the part where he has a tail, of course, but apparently there’s nothing to be done about that.

Three days later, Kirk is still not amused. His tail keeps _twitching_.

“I hate you,” Kirk says to it, blessedly alone for the moment in the turbolift. He’s on his way to the bridge from engineering, and it’s like his tail knows that he’s headed for his chair on the bridge. His chair which now is now exceedingly painful.

It makes Kirk want to cry a little, in a very manly way, because he used to love that chair to the point of having it star in several masturbatory fantasies, and now he can’t sit in it for more than five minutes without hurting.

The turbolift stops, and he hisses, “Stop it!” at his tail just as the doors open.

“Spock!” he says cheerfully as the other man enters.

“Captain.” Spock gives him a look that says he’s being even more human and inexplicable than usual. “I trust you are well.”

“Right as rain,” he replies.

“Indeed. Captain, may I have a word before we resume our presence on the bridge?”

“Sure,” Kirk shrugs, and follows Spock out of the lift to one of the small conference rooms near the bridge.

“My position as First Officer requires that I bring any change in efficiency to your attention,” Spock begins as the door swishes shut behind them, and Kirk resists the urge to hide his face in his hands because it’s going to be one of _those_ conversations. “In the past few days, your time on the bridge has reduced by 48.76 percent, and the work you complete during this time has reduced approximately 70.2 percent.”

“Huh,” Kirk sighs. The numbers are pretty depressing. He hadn’t realized it was that bad. “I was just trying to be more involved with the crew. Sometimes the bridge feels isolating.”

“A worthy endeavor. The departments you have visited show marked improvement in both efficiency and morale. However, you must not be negligent to your duties as captain. You are not here to perform routine maintenance.”

“Marked improvement?” Kirk muses aloud. He hadn’t been intending to improve the various departments, but if it works, it’s easy enough to keep up. “Maybe I’ll set up a rotating schedule.”

“That would be wise.” Spock hesitates briefly. “If there is nothing further, I will return to my post.”

“What were you going to say?” Kirk asks, because the times he’s seen Spock hesitate approach never.

Spock deliberates for another minute before offering, haltingly, “If your absence is caused by a personal matter--”

“Personal matter?” Kirk interrupts, surprised since Spock can’t know the truth. “What makes you say that?”

He can tell how uncomfortable Spock is by the way he refuses to make eye contact, staring at a fixed point over Kirk’s left shoulder. “Several of the crew have suggested that your inattention is caused by a new relationship, perhaps one of a romantic nature.”

Kirk rolls his eyes. “Tell Sulu to keep his gossip to himself. And I think I’m insulted. I wouldn’t let my ‘personal matters’ interfere with my duty. Which we should probably get back to.”

“Yes, Captain,” Spock agrees and follows him onto the bridge.

Kirk winces a bit when he sits down, eyes narrowing when he notices Sulu’s smirk. Kirk’s job might not be routine maintenance, but he can sure as hell make it Sulu’s.

\-----

“Fuck!” Kirk yells, and tackles Uhura to the ground, trusting Spock to get himself and the two security officers out of the way. It’s not enough, though, they’re too close to the epicenter. The ground is splitting beneath them.

He’s holding Uhura’s arm far too tight as they crawl and scrabble away from the source of the disturbance, pushing her forward. Spock appears before them, crouching for stability. Kirk shoves Uhura forward, relieved beyond measure when Spock grabs her and pulls her to safety.

“Don’t get too close!” he warns as Spock starts inching forward, because he can feel the ground giving way beneath his thighs. He grabs at the ground, but all the rocks and dirt are shifting with him, there’s nothing to hold.

“Captain!” Spock yells, followed by Uhura screaming, but he’s too busy to try and see if they’re safe, he’s falling, he’s...

He’s hanging by the seat of his pants, literally, looking down into the cavern they inadvertently caused to collapse, with no clue why he isn’t 40 meters down in pile of debris. “Uhh.. Spock?”

“Captain, do not move!” Spock orders urgently.

“Not a problem,” Kirk calls back, although he’s starting to feel a little dizzy from hanging with his head down by his feet. The view shifts slowly until he’s back over solid ground, and then he’s dropped unceremoniously with a loud ripping sound that Kirk suspects very much are his pants.

Spock’s there immediately, helping him up. “Captain, are you injured?”

“No, Spock,” he assures him, looking over his shoulder to see the gaping hole in his pants. “The only casualty is my pants.” He makes a face and tucks his tail tighter against his body.

He looks back at Spock to find him staring at Kirk’s ass and tail, medical kit in hand. _Shit_ , he thinks, but smiles when Spock glances up, confusion written in the line of his eyebrows. “See? Everything’s fine,” he says, with a bit more force than usual. “At least it wasn’t my shirt this time.” He strips off his command shirt and ties it around his waist. “What happened? I thought I was a goner for a minute there.”

Spock merely gestures away from the giant hole in the ground, and Kirk turns to find several huge reptilian people standing there watching them intently. He hardly comes up to their waists, they’re so tall, and the two inch claws must be what shredded his pants.

“Well,” he says to Uhura and the security officers that have been keeping a close eye their new acquaintances while he and Spock were occupied. “Let’s find out how to tell these kind gentlemen thank you, Uhura.”

\-----

"Captain," Spock begins evenly, "I wish to speak to you concerning the events on our last mission."

Unfortunately for him, Kirk would rather not. "No."

"May I inquire as to why not, Captain?"

"You were there, Mr. Spock. And I have already given you my report. What else could you need to know?" As if Kirk isn't painfully aware.

"I have noted your reticence on this topic, Captain, but I must inquire about your new appendage, especially given my first hand knowledge that it did not exist at the beginning of the expedition."

"Yeah, I don't - Wait, first hand knowledge? You've seen me naked?" Kirk winces. "Ah, before yesterday, I mean?" Kirk really doesn't care, per se, except that he would very much like to remember any instances involving his _naked ass_ and _Spock_ , thank you very much.

"Indeed. Once while you were a cadet, and twice after missions when Dr. McCoy was required to forcibly remove your clothing in order to treat your wounds."

"As a cadet, huh?" He must have been some drunk to forget that.

"Yes. Nyota explained to me that it was a tradition among young males known as 'streaking'".

Kirk grins. "They never proved that was me, you know."

"Of course not, Captain," Spock says dryly, but before Kirk can continue their banter, gets back to the matter at hand. "In any case, the relevant fact is that you did not possess your tail during these events.”

"Well, now it's there. Case closed. Glad we had this talk, Mr. Spock."

"May I ask how long since you acquired it?"

"A couple of weeks, I guess. Since that mission to the grey, stick people."

"Dr. McCoy said that you suffered no harm on that mission. Although this might explain his extreme mirth at the time of his statement." Spock pauses, dark eyes fixed on Kirk. "It was immediately following that your behavior changed in several, at the time, inexplicable ways. Was this the cause?"

"Yeah. I keep it tucked down my pants leg, and it hurts to sit still for long periods. Not that I was especially good at being still before."

"In light of this new information, I wish to apologize for several comments I made based on an incorrect assumption. They were out of line."

Kirk shrugs. He cannot believe that they are still talking about this. "Don't worry about it. You didn't know."

Spock inclines his head, acknowledging the point. "This is true. May I ask why you did not confide in me, as a matter of medical knowledge for your First Officer, if not as a friend."

"I just - Spock." He's blushing, and Spock may claim to be emotionless, but he sure knows how to hit you below the belt. "It's really embarrassing. I don't like talking about it. If I had my way, we wouldn't be talking about it now. It's not a reflection on you, I promise."

"Then I will ask my final inquiry and question you no longer on the topic: May I examine it?"

Kirk is still blushing, but now his eyebrows are at his hairline as well. "You want to examine my tail," he says flatly.

"Yes. However, I can see that my request is making you uncomfortable, Captain. I apologize."

"Well, 'uncomfortable' is a pretty good description of the entire situation," Kirk explains, waving off the apology. He stares, then adds doubtfully, "You realize I'm going to have to take off my pants."

"At least in part, yes."

Other than his debilitating embarrassment, which is frankly becoming bothersome anyway, modesty is for people other than Jim Kirk, he can't really think of a good reason to say no. But there is at least one good reason to say yes. "Hey, Vulcan's can't lie, right?"

"That is correct," Spock agrees solemnly. "And although I am only half-Vulcan, I would not lie to you, Captain."

"Uh, thanks," Kirk says, a little dubious, and continues. "Here's the deal. I'll let you examine my tail if you tell me exactly what you think of it."

"What I think of it," Spock repeats slowly.

"Yeah. I mean, Bones told me it wasn’t completely horrendous, but he lies all the time. Especially to me. So you have to tell me, objectively, how weird I look, okay?"

"Ah. You are apprehensive that you are no longer aesthetically pleasing. While I doubt this is the case based on my observations so far, I will tell you the truth, Captain."

"In all matters of pantlessness, I really must insist that you call me Jim." He uses a teasing tone, but Spock must sense that he's serious about that because he nods. Jim's fingers are unsteady as he unfastens his pants and turns around, pushing them down so that they're hanging at about mid-thigh. His tail wiggles free from where it was crammed down the left leg and twitches gently with the weight of his emotions. He waits apprehensively and listens to the sound of Spock's quiet, even breathing.

"Jim," Spock says, closer than he'd been when Kirk had turned around. Kirk shivers helplessly as he realizes that he’s bare-assed and presenting himself to Spock. He wonders a little hysterically if Spock recognizes fuck me body language when he sees it.

Then Spock's warm fingers catch the tip of his tail, rubbing against the soft hair there, and Kirk catches his breath, holding it. It shouldn't feel erotic - he hates the damn thing - but it does, oh god. Spock delicately manipulates tip, as if getting an idea of the range of motion and the tiny bones that let it move. He works his way up the tail, pressing every inch or so to feel for any changes, feeling the texture of the short hair.

Kirk is at least half hard and doing his best to ignore it when Spock reaches the place where his tail attaches to his body. Spock leans forward so close that Kirk can feel the warm breath on his skin, and then Spock pushes on the place where his tail and spine connect, and Jim can't help it, he rears back and moans, utterly unprepared for how _good_ that feels.

"Spock," he chokes out, but completely forgets what he was about to say as Spock grasps the base of his tail and very gently tugs.

Spock pauses, but when it becomes obvious that Kirk is not going to say anything, he repeats the motion, this time continuing up along the length of Kirk's tail, applying even, gentle pressure all the way to the tip.

Kirk whines high in his throat, and nearly topples over as he tries to follow the pressure, back arching. Spock catches him with a hand on his shoulder and guides him forward a few steps until he's in front of his desk where he can brace his arms against the edge. Spock crouches behind him, face level with his tail and his ass. Kirk wishes he could see Spock's face because he doesn’t know what the hell is going on, but he also doesn’t want this to stop, pretty much ever, so he stays silent.

Spock wraps one hand around the middle of his tail and holds it up and away, using his other hand to examine where it's attached, pressing and stroking. It's driving Kirk so crazy that he's practically hyperventilating. In retaliation he drags the tip of his tail across the back of the hand holding onto him. Spock gasps, and Kirk grins in triumph, wrapping the end around Spock's wrist, holding tight. Spock pulls, as if testing his grip, and Kirk pulls back.

"Spock, god, just fuck me already," he pants, and Spock's grip tightens in a way that isn't so deliberate and controlled before releasing him. Kirk unwinds his tail and tries to prepare himself for how awkward it's going to be when Spock says no.

Kirk turns to look over his shoulder at Spock over as he straightens, but he merely says, "You will need some form of lubricant."

Kirk blinks at him, but Spock's face is serious, of course. Spock rests his hand on Kirk's lower back for a second and rucks up his uniform shirt to get at a little more skin. He shivers against Spock's fingertips, but he's already moving, stripping off his shirt and throw it away. The cool air feels great against his overheated skin, and so does Spock's fingers as they feel their way up his spine.

He doesn't stop to appreciate the feeling, however, as he flattens himself out against the desk, cock catching somewhat painfully against the edge, and wrenches open the top drawer on the other side. He rummages around until his fingers close on the small container of lube he keeps there. He drags himself back up and hands it over to Spock who has raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"Shut up and fuck me," Kirk orders.

Spock examines and opens the tube. "I do not believe I offered a comment on the matter. However-"

"Shut _up_ ," Kirk interrupts, "And - _yes_ ," he moans as Spock grabs his hip and presses a finger inside him. He tries to move back to get more, deeper, but Spock is holding him immobile as he twists his finger.

"More," he demands, bending and trying to find some leverage against the desk. "Spock, _please_ , more," he whines, and Spock obliges, removing his finger and pushing back in with two fingers.

Spock is being distressingly thorough, scissoring his fingers slowly, and all Kirk wants is for Spock to _fuck him already_. He can't get at Spock with his hands braced against the desk, so he moves his tail back until he brushes against the outside of Spock's thigh. He can't see what he's doing, so he feels his way around Spock's leg, threading between them and back around. Spock's still wearing his pants, but they're undone, and the tip of his tail flicks against the base of Spock's dick as it moves, causing Spock's hips to jerk and rub against Jim's ass.

" _Fuck me_ ," Jim begs, shamelessly, tugging on him with his tail, and Spock removes his fingers and slides his cock inside, slowly, until Kirk can feel the pressure of Spock's hips against his ass and the twitching of his own tail against bare skin as it curls more firmly around Spock's leg.

Then Spock is finally, finally, fucking him, short vicious stabs that have him swearing and shoving back as hard as he can interspersed with slow, deeper strokes. His tail is holding Spock so tightly that every time Spock pulls out, he can feel the pressure against the base of his spine, ratcheting the whole thing higher and higher. He’s talking as they move together, but he's not sure what he's even saying, nonsense and pleading and moans all mixing together.

"Jim," Spock breathes, his voice shaking as he gives a particularly deep thrust, and Kirk comes, muscles clenching around and against Spock, his heartbeat roaring in his ears as he pulses wetly on the desk. His eyes close as he reels with pleasure, and when he finds himself again, Spock is hard and buried unmoving inside him.

"Spock," he gasps, and clenches down on Spock, who moans softly and begins to thrust again. "Yeah, c'mon," Kirk encourages, wanting Spock to come inside him, wants to give Spock this so bad. He's shaking with each stroke, and it's almost too much, and he turns his head but he can't really see Spock from this position, and he wants to watch Spock come, wants to watch him as he breaks apart with pleasure. "Spock," he says again, and Spock gives another of those breathy moans against the skin of his shoulder and stiffens against him, coming, warm and wet inside of Kirk.

Spock is still for a few seconds and then slowly pulls out, the movement dragging one last hiss of pleasure from Kirk from both the feeling of Spock leaving his body and the pressure the movement puts on his tail. He turns slowly, unwrapping his tail from where it's still clenched around Spock's thigh. Spock is breathing harder than normal and staring at the ground. Kirk trails two fingers over the eyebrow that so often mocks him and over to caress an eartip.

"As I said before, Jim. You need not fear that you are no longer aesthetically pleasing." His voice is deeper than usual but even.

"Yeah, I kind of got that." Kirk grins, feeling perfectly at home in his skin for the first time since this whole mess started. "Stay." Spock hesitates. "Stay, and we can do that again in the morning." Kirk kisses him gently, a slow brush of lips, just in case he's still thinking about leaving. Spock nods and leans in for another kiss.

When they're in bed twined together beneath the blankets, he curls his tail loosely around Spock's thigh, holding on as he drifts off, and thinks that maybe he'll be able to get used to the tail after all.  


**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at livejournal [here](http://often-adamanta.livejournal.com/203434.html).


End file.
